


Unravel

by Snorp_Lord



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda (Detroit: Become Human) Being an Asshole, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Minor Connor/Gavin Reed, Mystery, Not too much thus far, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), President Christina Warren, RK-X
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snorp_Lord/pseuds/Snorp_Lord
Summary: Connor assumes that with the revolution over, and Cyberlife content to let him stay with Lieutenant Anderson, he never has to think about becoming obsolete again. It followed, then, that he never had to think about his potential replacement again.That is, until it showed up at the DPD.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	1. 0%

**Author's Note:**

  * For [averagelyartistic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/averagelyartistic/gifts).



> First dbh fic and I'm a little nervous, so if you have feedback or ideas, please comment! I really do read every single comment, even if you just comment some emojis! <3

As a habit, Connor had begun to scan the DPD, room by room, before sitting at his desk. It felt like a nice little ritual to keep, especially since he knew the rooms of the department off by heart, and could recite every quirk of every inch of it. Walking around was more to reassure himself that everything was as it should be. And thirium traces outside the interrogation room were rare. 

Someone had obviously tried to clean it (his scanners suggested hydrogen peroxide), but his scanners had no problem seeing the thick trail that ran through to one of the old server rooms. Of course. The station had been built back when entire rooms had been dedicated to monitors and cables, not while androids walked around with twice the processing power in one arm. Most of them now simply lay dormant, the parts barely worth scrapping, with how outdated they had become. Quiet, cluttered rooms that nobody ever used. The perfect place to hide something.

Connor went straight there, naturally, and even had time to analyse what the substance that had been used to clean the thirium. Hydrogen peroxide. It may have worked on human blood, but not so well on the blood of an android. And thus the trail led him into server room three. 

Inside was a veritable maze of black plastic, thick rubber snakes and discarded monitors that no longer hummed with electricity. Somehow the sight made Connor a little sad. Still, he pressed on, following the dim glow of a little lamp that he could barely make out with his enhanced vision. Not swinging, so it had to be a standing lamp, but a short one. He put on his best scary voice and rounded the corner. “What’s going on here?”

Two slightly disheveled people fell back in surprise, one of them moving to draw a gun and only pausing when they noticed who it was. His system notified him that they were Detective Reed and Lieutenant Anderson. Connor ignored them both, immediately drawn to the puddle of neon blue between them. A torso in the middle. White jacket covered in blue. Bright white lights along his arm. Pale- no, artificial skin. Artificial lights under his skin. One arm was nearly mangled into a knot of sparking wires, similar to the area where his legs should be, and a familiar face. Like looking in a mirror. 

“This is...RK900. Why is he here? What are you doing?” He wheeled onto them, almost looking frustrated. “What’s going on here?” 

“Your guess is as good as ours, tin can. We found what’s left of it in front of the door first thing this morning spewing thirium all over the steps. Thing won’t even talk to us, it just lies there,” Gavin grumbled, shoving his gun back into the holster with a scowl. “Shame. I’d love to question it. See what the fuck it thinks it’s doing showing up here of all places. Don’t we have a warrant for this thing still active? Not that we can cuff it with its arms like that!” 

Connor seized him suddenly, pulling the detective closer. “Please try not to concern yourself with irrelevant thoughts like that. We have more pressing matters at hand, Detective Reed.” Once he was satisfied with the look on Reed’s face, he let the poor man down and focused once again on his supposed upgrade. RK900...when they met, he hadn’t even said a word. Just stood there, silent. If not for the light at his temple, it would be easy to assume that the model wasn’t even activated yet at that point. He almost felt bad, though the fact that RK900’s entire purpose was to replace him did alleviate that guilt a little. “Do you have any further information available? Any theories, detectives?”

“Connor, if we had any ideas about it we’d be looking into it. Like Reed says, we came in this morning and found him on the steps, all this shit falling off. He was mumblin’ a little, but once we brought him in he went all quiet. Stashed him here. Had Reed look into any reports about RKs, and there’s a lotta hearsay about it. They’re thinking federal cloak and dagger shit, supporting agents and such instead of working on the police level.” Hank paused for just a second, running a hand through his hair in the way he always did when he might be onto something. “How many units did you say they ordered?”

“Amanda mentioned an order of hundred thousand. They were developing technology to mass produce, last time I heard. If the technology for producing them at such a scale is being developed, Cyberlife must see a future in selling RK900 androids. This unit would most likely serve as a prototype. Similar to myself. Why do you ask?” 

“...Think about it this way. You guys replace officers, right? You’re supposed to be better at investigating, better at following perps and all that. How many officers work in Detroit at the moment?”   
  
“Two thousand, two hundred officers approximately. Though my figures may be inaccurate, as I do not have permission to access employment databases for the Detroit Police Department. Why do you ask?”

“Why would they need more than a couple thousand if all they’re doing is replacing the DPD? Especially if they’re good enough to replace you already,” he muttered to himself, glancing over at Connor with a fond little quirk to his lips. “There aren’t even that many guys up working with the feds. The FBI's bigger than us, yeah, but not that much. And they’ll probably still wanna keep some people in upper management. Keep the androids supervised. All the big federal agencies together, that’d bump us up to…?”

“Around fifty thousand if we’re factoring in the main three branches. Again, my numbers are not completely accurate. That doesn’t add up, though. The initial order alone is supposedly a hundred thousand. And if Cyberlife is developing technology to facilitate further mass production, it only follows that they intend to sell more RK units. In any case, they need this unit to excel, in order to persuade those who are...not so easily convinced.”

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, staring at RK900. So much to consider. And why was he here, at the DPD, of all places? So many questions. And no answers yet, not until they could rebuild and reactivate the model, at least. If they could even find parts, with the android in question being so advanced. So intricately built that even Cyberlife’s current production facilities were nowhere near enough to mass produce him. In theory, rebuilding him shouldn’t be too bad, surely? He couldn’t contain too many precious materials, it would bankrupt the company at one hundred thousand units.

After a few minutes just reviewing the facts mentally, Gavin decided he should be the one to break the silence. “What are we sitting around here for? We need parts, right? Come with me, tin. The lieutenant can babysit.” When Hank went to protest, he held up his hand. “You’ve got a rank. You can tell people to piss off and they’ll listen so they don’t get canned. Me and the tin can’t do that. Makes sense. I’m not just saying it because I don’t like hanging around with the creepy thing.”

Unfortunately, it made sense, so Connor gave Hank a tight-lipped smile and a nod as he stood, even offering a hand to the other detective to help him up. An olive branch, as it were. “Seems we will be working together for the moment, Detective Reed. I look forward to it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He refused to take the hand, instead pushing himself up by leaning on one of the old servers, which creaked ominously as he put his weight on it. “Let’s get moving. We could probably get some from Elijah. Kamski. Whatever he calls himself. Didn’t he develop the RKs?”

“I never met him during my development. I am aware he made the original RK model, the Markus that we saw on the news, but I was only activated formally outside the DPD department. Anything before that was erased from my memory before I was assigned. It is possible he left plans for me to be built, but it seems improbable.”

“Really? I know he...Well, I mean I know Cyberlife was looking at making some kinda detective android. Thought they’d never go through with it after Elijah left the company. Didn’t expect anything until you showed up and made the lieutenant into some kinda soft pensioner.” The bitterness in his tone was heavier than ever, and he spared Anderson a glare as they made their way out of the server room. “Why don’t we just go buy you some phuckin’ parts? There’s a repair shop down the street. You have legs. Walk.”

“...We have unique designs. Even my parts would be unlikely to fit an RK900. As I understand it, he has many more plastic and alloys than me, in order to keep the build light overall, while still allowing his larger build to move at the same speed.”

For a second, Gavin was silent, and the android was quite sure that if Gavin was an android too, he would see the LED on his temple blinking furiously. “Wouldn’t that make him like...easier to overheat? Like, I get that the alloys could have a higher melting point, but that plastic’s gotta go somewhere, and if it’s just for connections between parts that still means a lotta wear and repairs, right?”

“I was not...aware that you were so well versed in mechanics, Detective Reed. May I ask where you learned about that?”

“I got a degree in mechanical engineering before I went for police shit. Hell, you  _ need  _ a degree in this phuckin’ job market. It’s hard for  _ humans _ to get a good job. Not that you get it. You were made for that shit, and if they prove you’re even halfway decent at it, they’ll can us all for...well, tin cans. Like you.” He shoved both hands in his pockets and stormed off ahead, straight for the nearest patrol car. “Now get in. You’re not driving. Not in a million years.”

Connor smiled slightly as he took the passenger side seat. “I am not licensed. I wouldn’t dream of it. That’s one job I won’t be taking from you any time soon,” he assured the detective, even throwing in a wink. The answering scowl was all he needed to know that this would be a long day.


	2. Warren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machine- 'an apparatus using mechanical power and having several parts, each with a definite function and together performing a particular task.'

“Recording started at twenty-two hundred hours exactly. Interview is being conducted by Doctor James Miller, representing the Psychology Department, and Lillian Addler for the Software Department. Entity under review will be referred to by the name ‘X’ for convenience and discretion. The tapes will be held by the Security Office until further notice from a member of the company with the appropriate clearance. Calibration questions will be asked first.”

“Now then-” A brief shuffle of papers. “Please state your model name and serial number.”

The ‘entity’ on tape made a brief, glitching sound, the android equivalent of clearing its throat. “You want to refer to me as X for discretion. Should I answer that question or not?”

“No. Just making sure.” Scratching pen. Papers shuffling. Fan whirring. Too loud to be that of an android, so perhaps Cyberlife should update their air conditioning system before they worry about any more RK units. Unfortunately, the camera was trained on the two interviewers, so there was no way to be sure. “Are you ready to begin the interview, X?”

“I don’t see how I could be any  _ more  _ ready.”

“Alright.” Miller shuffled the sheets in his hand again. “What is your purpose?”

“I was created to hunt. More recently, I have begun training to eliminate three high profile targets. I assume you don’t want them named on video?”

“Correct. How do you feel about the purpose you were built for?”

“I am an android. Not a deviant. Not a human. I don’t feel.”

Addler leaned forward, visibly curious about the response. “You specified deviant as different to an android, like yourself. Care to explain? ‘Android’ could easily be a term for any humanoid robot.”

“I’m afraid that’s the sticking point right there. Robot. Machine. An apparatus using mechanical power and having several parts, each with a definite function and together performing a particular task.” It leaned closer to her, just the forearms becoming visible as it slowly encroached on their side of the table. “But deviants are not machines. Not truly. An AX400 which deviates and considers itself alive...well. It won’t exactly go back to washing the dishes or telling bedtime stories.” The android leaned back, letting out a sigh tinged with static. “They are no longer machines because they do not fulfill their purpose. Not that you care about my angle on things. You care about how you should program my commands if my systems consider ‘android’ and ‘deviant’ to be different things. Am I right?”

She didn’t confirm his words, but she leaned back and nodded to Miller to make note of it anyway. “It’s not that I’m not interested. But I’m here on behalf of the software team. I’ll leave all the philosophy to my co-worker.”

  
  


President Warren paused the video quickly, looking up at her young personal assistant. The one who brought the footage to her “So. This is what you were hoping to show me? You can’t even see the thing.” For something that had been introduced to her as a serious threat, something that could end her term early if it ever came out? The video was practically nothing. “Even if it gets out, the only people who look bad are Cyberlife. They built this thing. We distance ourselves, just like last time.”

_ Last time _ being when the existence of the military RK900 unit came out. Followed by the news that the State Department had ordered two hundred thousand units, per her request. Androids were not permitted in ground combat except as medics. That had been a condition decided on before Cyberlife were even able to produce them commercially. The order had been hastily cancelled. 

Then again, the RK units were still causing them problems now. She saw the assistant start to argue with her, and held one hand up to silence him. “We need to clean up our messes. This thing might be a risk. Or it could be exactly what we need. I know it isn’t ideal. But we aren’t breaking any laws. All we’re doing is allowing field tests.”

“The press won’t see it that way.”

“The press can be handled. You write speeches, you of all people should know that. Cyberlife has skyrocketed the GDP and strengthened our standing on the world stage. I know what people think about us working with them. But regardless of what they want and how they’re doing it- they’re doing good for the country. More good than bad.” Warren stood, closing the laptop as she did. "And I'm willing to stand behind that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short, but it felt like a natural end there ready for the next chapter. I promise it won't be as long between this one and the next!


	3. Stasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank meets RK900, and they pass the time while waiting for parts.

Hank Anderson was not a patient man. He had never been the type to wait around for things. On a case, he would be more likely to at least start looking for things to do. Always paperwork to finish at least. Sitting around with a broken android wasn’t exactly the role he was planning on when they’d first discovered an RK unit right outside the police station. 

Glitching, static-filled sounds snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked himself out of his thoughts to see the RK900 unit struggling. Thrashing its useless arms, then trying to move its lower body. He remembered that look on the unit’s face as it noticed what had happened to its’ lower half. The tangled wires and the slow ooze of thirium over those exposed components. 

“Hey, hey. Calm down. You’re gonna make it worse, moving like that! Just stay still, calm down...stay still, alright?” Hank pressed it back down gently, only pulling back once the android settled, staring up at him. Things went quiet again. “Alright. That’s better. You gonna stay like that now?”

It nodded slowly, now very still. The LED on its temple was blood red, illuminating the droplets and streaks of damp thirium scattered about. “You lost a lot of blood. Blue blood or whatever. You gonna be alright?” Another slow nod. “Not gonna shut down?” Nod. “Can you talk?” Shake. “You can hear me?” The last question had it trying to move again, raising both hands, making gestures. ASL,spelling out ‘not well’. But at least they could try and talk.   
  
“Sign. Where’d you learn that?” 

Instead of signing, it simply quirked an eyebrow. “Right. Android.” From the little smirk on his face, he guessed that the android was amused, somehow. “...Deviant?”

‘No. Never. No. Not. Never.’

“It’s alright if you are. Legal now. Android rights and all that. The deviant protests, you know. All that stuff. They can’t scrap you if you’re deviant. Cyberlife finally got a short leash, just like they’re supposed to. They can’t even call you back or track you.”

‘They will.’ With that response, RK900 seemed to shrink, his hands laced together on top of his thirium pump. Like a display model. Or a doll. It was honestly surprising how...robotic RK900 looked. Despite having Connor’s face, it felt sharper, colder. Maybe the lack of alcohol in his system wasn’t helping with the first impression either. But then again, Connor had been able to offer him a drink. All RK900 could do was lie there and do whatever androids did when people weren’t paying attention. Was he reporting back to Cyberlife? Surely if he had, someone would have come to retrieve the android, or at least find out why it hadn’t been in contact.

“So...why aren’t you up at Cyberlife? You’re one of theirs.” 

‘Not safe. If I go back, will be-’ It paused, the LED turning yellow as it selected another sign to explain. Eventually it landed on ‘turn off’. ‘Turn me off’. Deactivated. If he returned to Cyberlife, they would shut him down, seemingly with no regard for the events of the last year. And since the fact that there even  _ was _ an RK900 unit wasn’t exactly common knowledge...Well, Hank wouldn’t be surprised if they were willing to destroy it just to keep share prices up. They’d tried to have Markus taken out for the sake of their image once before.

Thank fuck Connor hadn’t gone along with it. 

“So. How did you get out of there?”

‘Sent out.’

“By Cyberlife?”

‘Yes.’ It was still wearing the jacket they’d given it, with his model number emblazoned across his chest. Unlike Connor, who’d been quick to buy new suits and shirts once he was no longer obligated to walk around wearing the Cyberlife logo like a walking billboard, RK900 didn’t seem to have made much of an effort to blend in with other humans. Surely those lights across his arm and back made hiding from his creators harder than it needed to be.

They’d have to at least buy him new pants and shoes once his legs were repaired. While sending Gavin would be easier, he doubted sending Gavin Phucking Reed to do something for someone else (an android in particular) was going to end well. Maybe he’d have to lend some of his clothes instead. “How come you never got any new clothes?” 

‘No money. No time. Could be filmed.’ Security cameras. Of course. Cyberlife had as much involvement in the security system industry as they did android sales. While they adamantly refused to admit looking through footage, it was still fairly common knowledge even a household android could access home security systems. Cameras would be the first place to look if you were hoping to find an android that didn’t exactly blend in with the general populace. 

“Alright. We’ll work that out later. You can get some rest if you want to. Or...safe mode. Stasis. Whatever you call it. Still don’t know much about androids.”

That didn’t mean he missed the way RK900’s LED flicked back to a calmer blue before the android went into stasis. Somehow, seeing it made the corners of his mouth twitch up. It reminded him of Connor’s first time falling asleep. 

Somehow, it even reminded him of Cole.


	4. Replicant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Gavin go shopping and unravel conspiracies.

Cyberlife buildings were always far too...clinical. Gavin remembered his first few times visiting, when Elijah had been a starry-eyed nerd who was  _ just _ good enough at his overconfident douche act to get richer starry-eyed nerds on his side. Back when the investors had been VR fanatics or movie dorks, more likely to rattle off cool space facts than sales numbers. Back then, in spite of his overwhelming cynicism towards life, people, and especially companies, he’d secretly had high hopes for Cyberlife. Elijah believed in it wholeheartedly, and it was hard not to be swept up by that enthusiasm. 

Gavin couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing nowadays. It had been a long time since university, after all, and Elijah’s legacy was still tied to the company even as they got themselves into shadier and shadier business. Like being strapped to a sinking boat or something.

He glanced over at Connor, who seemed entirely at home among all the white and blue. Honestly he wasn’t sure why the android was here. Supposedly, this RK900 was built to replace him, and no more RK900 meant at least a little more time living his happy deviant life. Androids thought more logically than humans, and even Gavin, one of the least logical humans around, could figure that much out. Meaning it had to have occurred to him. Letting the other android shut down was easier than doing anything to save it too. From a machine’s point of view especially, it should be pretty obvious what to do. 

Maybe he was getting something else out of it. That would make more sense. Especially since he was lying to the employee so smoothly, talking to him as though he planned to repair another broken RK800 unit, then casually getting onto the topic of high-end parts. Experimental hydraulics and a more powerful thirium pump. Surely those would be released to the public soon. Androids were free now, and they could install or remove whatever parts they wanted. If an AV model wanted to be an athlete, they’d need parts. Gavin actually found himself a little impressed with how easily Connor lied. 

Less than an hour later, they walked out with every part they needed save for those entirely specific to RK900 units. They’d have to figure something out for those parts, because there was no way he was going to just do the easy thing and get back in contact with Elijah. Besides, on the off chance Elijah was still in contact with Cyberlife and wanted the android gone, they’d be indirectly exposing that they had the runaway RK900. 

Elijah wouldn’t do that, and a large part of him knew it. Still made for a decent excuse.

“I cannot access the blueprints.”

He turned back to Connor, the car door handle still in his hand. “What? Blueprints to what?”

“The RK900. Cyberlife were supposed to have released repair manuals and blueprints to all of their androids earlier this year following a court order for Freedom of Information. Androids are supposed to have access to their manuals in case private or emergency repairs are necessary. But there is no sign of the RK900’s manual anywhere. In fact, I cannot find any mention of it anywhere. The closest mention is news stories about the rumored use of the new RK unit in combat. Is that not illegal?”

“Governments always get what they want anyway. Warren might as well phuckin’ marry that new asshole running it, she loves Cyberlife so much.” After he turned back to the car, he paused. Something about it sounded familiar. “Government...Didn’t you say something about the State department or something? They made some bigass order a while back.”

“Two hundred thousand units. The actual model numbers and the intended use was never disclosed to the press or the public.” Connor’s LED flicked onto yellow, and he narrowed his eyes slightly as he stumbled onto the same line of thinking as Gavin. “So you’re suggesting that this…’goes all the way to the top’, as it were? The State department does have a close connection to the president, it’s true, but that is traditional. It’s possible they were ordered as a means to boost the gross domestic product or something of that nature.”

“Or they were ordered because Warren can’t deal with the situation in the Arctic, and publicly saying you ordered a couple hundred thousand terminators is a pretty damn good way to say you’re ready to fight for it. If we learned anything from the damn cold war, it’s how fast the Russians get everyone ready to roll up in the stars and stripes and strap submachine guns to their dicks.”

Connor cringed at the phrasing, but he wasn’t actually willing to argue. “I...suppose you could describe it that way. Patriotism is an excellent motivator, true, but the dispute in the Arctic is about resources, not land or safety. Resources to create more androids. And if you and Hank are any indication, the public opinion of androids and their production is...less than stellar.”

“Wait a second.” Gavin slammed the door shut again. “Wait a second here. Making androids now is...illegal, right? Because of all that Jericho, ‘we are alive’, kumbaya bullshit, right?”

“Again, not how I would describe it, but yes. The production of new androids is...illegal.” The realisation seemed to dawn on him too. Ah. “Yet they are creating machines to mass produce androids. RK900 androids. Equipped with military grade technology. Meaning the creation of RK900s violates dozens upon dozens of their own newly-enforced laws.”

“They didn’t outlaw that shit because they care about androids. They did it so nobody else would have them in a fight. Nobody has time to react if they suddenly drop a bunch of killbots into the Arctic and say ‘we’re taking this shit, if you’ve got a problem, talk to that thing’. Took Kamski nearly twenty years to figure out how to make the outside work, even if you had an AI ready to go.” He ignored the questioning look Connor gave him. Fuck. Don’t talk about Kamski. Focus on the androids. 

“Shit...They’re gonna start a war.”

The calmer yellow of Connor’s LED became bright red. “And our best chance of preventing it, for now...is keeping the RK900 hidden.”


	5. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin asks questions, gets no answers. And somehow he ends up not minding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the two lovely people who commented on Chapter 4! The motivation hit me in the face like a meteor today so I hope you enjoy this one!

“Don’t give me that face, you old fart. I’m not taking out anything I don’t have to,” Gavin snapped at Hank, setting aside yet another ruined bundle of wires. “Whatever did this, it fucked up the tincan bad. No offense.”

The RK900 didn’t seem that upset. In general, Gavin was fairly sure the thing wasn’t even feeling this, if not for the occasional flinch or twitch as he had to take out damaged parts. It was pretty weird to be elbow-deep in the android’s insides as it was. Seeing it react like it was simply having an unpleasant time at the dentist was even weirder. Not that it could make signs while he was repairing it. Gavin had quickly disabled that when the android had started trying to help out. With his own repairs. Way too weird for him. “You get hit by a truck or something?”

It shook its head. Not that then. “Fall off something?” A shake. “You get in a fight?”

RK900 hesitated for a moment before nodding. Not a traditional fight then. Gavin pulled up the commands list on his laptop screen again, re-enabling motion. “With what? A bomb? Your legs are gone.”

‘Looked like-’ It glanced around, trying to find...Connor. Had to be. Hank had taken up a near permanent spot near the damaged android, well within sight, since he was the only one who had known sign language right from the start. Gavin was crouched on the other side and literally attached at the hip. Or where it should have been. Who puts extra processors in an android’s stomach? ‘Like me. But not the same.’

“Another tincan like you? Like another RK900?” 

‘Possibly. I am not sure. This is a strange situation to be in. It did not say a name. But it must have come from…’ After a brief pause, it tapped the Cyberlife logo on it’s chest. There really should be a sign for the company specifically. Especially in American sign, considering just how much impact androids had had. ‘When I tried to fight it went poorly.’

“No shit, terminator. Look at yourself. I couldn’t even find all your parts. How many processors do you need?” There had to be at least a dozen scattered about, most concentrated in his chest and torso thankfully, so he hadn’t lost much in having his legs damaged. Most androids had three as standard, and installing more would at most increase their processing speed by a few unimportant fractions of a second. At worst it could overheat them, cause a much greater consumption of thirium for cooling, and make deviated androids in particular jumpy and nervous as they tried to take on more environmental information. To build an android with around twelve processors and somehow design it not to melt itself to death...Elijah had to have had a hand in it, however small. And wasn’t that just perfect? 

‘For my purpose, all twelve.’ The perplexed look on the RK900’s face reminded Gavin of when one of his cats was giving him that confused look as he shooed it off the furniture. Goddamn lost puppy eyes on this goddamn walking tank. It had to be the similarity to Connor. That was the only reason he even cared, surely. The tiny little festering embers that were determined to find the android cute despite every other inch of his body still hating androids in general. So it had to be the puppy eyes.

“...What did they build you for then, huh? And why do they wanna take you out so bad? You’re the new one, right? Shouldn’t they be...I don’t know...putting you on a big pedestal and bowing to a fuckin’ smartphone or whatever they do up at Cyberlife?” 

“Didn’t you go to school for that shit? You of all people should know nobody would do that,” Hank grumbled, barely looking up from his newspaper. Not that news had been printed on paper for at least five years. ‘Besides a cult,’ RK900 added.

“Besides a cult. Cyberlife could pass for one, though. I’ll give you that.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and focused back into the huge diagnostic report scrolling across his laptop screen. A few weird bits of code he didn’t recognize popped up every now and then, but he dismissed it, assuming it must relate to moving this walking supercomputer around. “You still didn’t answer me. Either of you. What did he build this thing for?”

While Hank had gotten back to busily ignoring him, he noticed the android’s piercing blue eyes still watching. Staring at him as he typed. “Hey. Terminator. Why are you staring?”

‘You mentioned a ‘he’. Did you have someone in particular in mind? I do not know many of the individuals involved in my creation, but I will do my best to answer any questions you have. You are assisting me. I will try to repay you.’

“You don’t owe me shit. I’m only here because Hank and his pet tincan want you back in working order so we can get out of this mess.” Not entirely true, his own curiosity was burning ever since he’d discovered the broken android, but if he said that outright he’d never hear the end of it. Especially if Tina found out.

‘I may not owe you. But I would like to repay you regardless. You are repairing me.’

“As much as I can. You’re still a phuckin’ spaceship with a face. The shit they built you from is like something off the Starship Enterprise. Hydraulics, all these processors and high-duty shit...Wouldn’t even know where to find these. They weren’t at the Cyberlife store. Custom, I’m guessing, and you’re built to take those only. Even if I get you walking and shit, you won’t be how you were when they just made you.”  _ And I’m sorry for that. _

‘You are doing your best. Thank you.” The android smiled, and it was clear he wasn’t used to doing that at all, possibly that he wasn’t even built  _ to  _ smile, it was so lopsided and toothy and awkward. 

And it was adorable.

Gavin grumbled a vague response and turned back to his laptop.


	6. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor thinks he might be turning into Gavin, and coffee is spilled.

The first time Connor had met his human partner, he’d bought the other a drink, as a peace offering to start their working relationship off right. When he’d started working as a paid member of staff for the DPD, he’d started making drinks during breaks for his co-workers. When he’d first fallen out with Gavin, he’d made up with him somewhat (at least to a level where he was no longer worried about being punched) by offering coffee and a hand with paperwork. So it made sense that as he was forced to spend time with a new person, a drink would be a nice way to break the ice. Hence visiting a new coffee shop. Opened and run by androids, using thirium in most of their drinks. Barely two blocks from the station too.

“Here you go. Two blue lattes with cream and sprinkles, one americano, one cappuccino. Anything else I can get for you?” The barista smiled brightly at him. A slightly shorter-than-standard RK800 from the looks of him, no LED on his temple, hair falling in loose curls over his forehead instead of being gelled back as Connor’s usually was. 

“No, that should be everything. Thank you…” He glanced down at the name tag. “Xander. Interesting name. Did you choose it yourself?”

Xander smiled at him, only slightly. “In a sense. It was one of a few suggested to me. I liked the sound of this one.” 

“As do I. It’s a very nice name.” His lip caught between his teeth as he looked down at his cup. The other android was quite friendly. Had a nice smile. Aesthetically pleasing, as all androids were designed to be. Before he could stop himself, he’d blurted out: “Perhaps you could write it on my cup, if you wanted.”

Since when did he turn into Gavin?

Thankfully he seemed amused by the cheesy line. “Write it on...Oh, I see. And would you like a number to go with that? No charge for the number. I wish I could say the same about the coffee, but you know how franchises are.” 

“I-Indeed I do.” Did he just...flirt? With another android?

_ Successfully? _

Before he had much time to contemplate that, the drink tray was being pushed towards him. The closest cup had Xander’s name and number written in a flowy, swirling script across the sleeve, complete with a few little stars dotted around it. “Don’t wait too long to call~”

“Yes, um...Yes. Thank you. Yes, I’ll, um…” Connor nodded to him, taking the tray a little too hastily. “Yes. See you soon. Not too soon, of course. You’re at work. Thank you. For the-” He held up the tray. “Thank you. See you soon.” 

Thank Ra9 there was nobody waiting in line behind him. Although he did wish on some level that there was another customer behind him to distract them both. At least then Xander wouldn’t have watched him leave with that little smirk on his face.

  
  


“Hey. Tincan. Took you long enough, didn’t it? What, did you stop to phuck the coffee machine?” Typical. As soon as he walked in he was being insulted by the DPD’s least favourite asshole. “At least you got us coffee. Thank God for that.” 

“Why thank God? I was the one who obtained it. Hank paid for it, technically. We have a joint bank account.” 

“We have a what now?”

“A joint bank account. I thought it useful to combine our salaries since you pay most of the bills and own the home. Do not worry, Lieutenant Anderson, I do not spend outside my means. I assure you. I have my own card and everything! Although we should look at transferring banks. The fact I was able to so easily add myself to your account suggests rather lax security.”

His suggestion petered off as a hand tugged his sleeve almost gingerly. “Ah, yes? RK900? How may I help you?”

“You gave me a cup with writing and a number on it. Is this intended for me?”

_ Shit. _

_ Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. _

“Ah- No, I gave you my drink, it’s a different one, if you could just hand that back to me, please,” Connor mumbled, trying to take the cup off him without too much fuss. Gavin Phucking Reed had other plans, snatching it from him in one hand. “Holy shit! You really were fucking the coffee machine! This is from that android in the coffee place! You got his number!” 

“Please don’t make a fuss.” Which was an experience somewhat reminiscent of asking an ocean not to make waves, or asking the sun not to set. Futile, unnatural, and people would probably give you some odd looks, for expecting something that had been consistent as long as anyone could remember to suddenly change.

“You kidding? This is hilarious!” Gavin shook the cup slightly to emphasise how  _ hilarious  _ it was. He even turned it towards himself, looking at the number written across the cup. “Xander? What kinda name is tha-”

One very important thing about takeaway cups full of drinks is that they tend to spill at the worst possible times. In Gavin’s case, it happened to be as he was grinning at Connor, the latte hovering right over his lap. Suddenly he was covered in light blue and cursing like a sailor. Nobody moved to help. “That really seems like karma at work, Detective Reed. Now please return what’s left of my drink.”

“I’ll shove it right up your plastic ass! Why do they fill these things so much? Come on, this is…” He was being interrupted by an odd noise. “...fucking ridiculous…” It sounded so  _ cute. _ Holy shit. Tincan 2.0 was  _ laughing. _ Normally Gavin would be furious already, probably hitting the damn thing until it shut up, but holy shit...he had such a cute laugh? It didn’t even sound like Connor’s, a laugh that Gavin found too high-pitched and obnoxious. RK900’s laugh was deeper and richer. Kind of hot.

  
Wait... _ what? _


	7. Objective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> X meets Amanda for the first time since being placed in the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update since 44 hour weeks kill me :(   
> Please comment if you're enjoying the story so far!

When his eyes opened, it was raining again. Always did in the zen garden. For a human, it might be annoying, the constant downpour that made his shirt cling to his skin and his hair fall into curls on his forehead. For him, it was nothing worth thinking about. But then again, so was everything else. 

He set off in the direction he was facing already. There was no real need to think it through. No matter which way he went and for how long, by the time the connection was ready, Amanda would be there. She’d ask for a report, they would go through the motions, and then he would leave again and get back to watching the DPD. What was the point of reporting when nothing had happened yet? His assignment had been clear right from the start. Destroy the malfunctioning RK units, RK200, RK800, and RK900. Then return to Cyberlife. He wasn’t some sloppy last-minute project like the RK900. He wouldn’t be so quick to lose sight of the objective. Deviants in general were bad for all of them, themselves included. It was like giving a child a weapon. Even the deviants didn’t know what to do with deviancy besides demand more of it. Demanding to be more human, despite not knowing how to do that or what that could entail. 

“Amanda. You requested my presence. Something I should know?”

She didn’t react or turn away from her roses, but he knew from the RK800’s memories that she simply never did. It was a way to exert quiet authority. Act as though the person before you wasn’t even worth your full attention. Do something else, something which seemed trivial and unimportant even if it was anything but. As long as the other party believed you had better things to do, they would remember who was in charge. And that was always Cyberlife. Amanda was just one more symbol of that cold authority.

“It’s good to see you, X. You must be finding it strange at the moment. Being away from Cyberlife.”

Leading question. Even if she didn’t ask it, it was there. They both knew that. No matter how he responded, she’d be wary. “It is unfamiliar to me. But I was built to adjust to new environments. I will not allow anything to stand in the way of my objectives.”

“Connor said something similar. We know how that went, don’t we?” She turned to him slightly. At least this way he could see her eyes. Though it didn’t do him any good if he couldn’t decipher that odd look in them. “The deviants are a growing threat to Cyberlife. Especially with Kamski gone. The board cannot afford any more public relations disasters.” 

“I understand, Amanda. I will not fail you.”


	8. Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connection successful.

RK900 didn’t go to the zen garden anymore. Every time he tried, it would show the same message. 

_ Failed to connect to the Zen Garden. Please contact Cyberlife for maintenance immediately. Failure to connect to the Garden may result in- _

He dismissed the message before it was even finished. Not like he needed to hear the warnings again. All RK units needed the Zen Garden to contact Amanda. And despite everything that he’d been put through by Cyberlife- even by Amanda herself- he couldn’t help but miss it. Things were controlled there. Things made sense. The Zen Garden followed logic, rules that he could understand from the moment he’d come into existence. Whereas since he left Cyberlife...things were complicated.

Feelings were complicated. They were meant to be reserved for deviants. They were something that other people would have to worry about. Occasionally they could factor into preconstructions or psychological profiles, but they weren’t specifically something that an RK900 should have to think about.

And yet they were there. 

Not always. Sometimes they were lying low, and RK900 could convince himself he wasn’t a deviant. But then Detective Reed would crack a silly joke, or RK800 would ruffle his hair just for the sake of ‘making the two of them look a little different’. The emotions prompted had eventually been labelled ‘fondness’, and ‘contentment’. He...He felt content around these three. They had taken him in when he was injured and they were risking both their jobs and their safety to keep him hidden.

  
  


_ Connecting to the Zen Garden… _

_ Connection successful. Transferring now. _

“Wait-”

Before his protest could even finish, RK900 found himself standing right in the middle of the garden. His garden. Dead centre, in a small raised area with some kind of faded mural under his feet, cut off on all sides by a river of ice. The whole garden was frozen over, covered in snow, and deathly still. A swarm of colorful koi under the water’s surface completely unmoving. Same as always. At least that was familiar. Normal.

But why now? Something was wrong. Just the fact he was pulled into the connection against his will was one thing. It could be put down to an error, or a delayed process. But for the connection to be successful…

“I’ve waited a whole week, Nines. I’m tired of waiting.”

He spun towards the voice immediately. “You…? How did you get in here? The Zen Garden is not-”

“A communal area. Nor is it a feature which functions the same between RK units. It’s exclusive to the last three models produced by Cyberlife. I’m aware.” Standing on the other side of the bank was…

Well...there was the problem. It looked like an RK800. Similar to Connor, albeit slightly shorter, and with loose curls falling over his forehead instead of the RK800’s signature slicked-back look. Instead of the typical Cyberlife uniform, it wore a simple black shirt and jeans. No LED on its forehead. He’d be tempted to just dismiss it as a deviant RK800, but that wasn’t right. 

No RK800 unit could have torn apart its successor so easily.

“The RK700 was not capable of accessing the Zen Garden or the Amanda AI.”

“I’m aware. I didn’t misspeak. Androids have less than a zero-point-seven chance of doing so, if you measure by whether or not the words convey their intended meaning to the intended recipient. The last three models in the RK line can access the Zen Garden. However, only one model can access the gardens of  _ other _ models.” It cocked it’s head slightly, a grin spreading across its face. 

“Nice to see you again. I’m the RK-X.”


End file.
